


A Cross To Bear (Gen, Case Fic)

by buttsnax



Series: Supernatural Ghosts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bears, Gen, Ghosts, compsognathus, diplodocus, stegosaurus, tyrannosaurus-rex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsnax/pseuds/buttsnax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’ve got to help me!” begged the soft, feminine voice on the phone that almost certainly belonged to a preternaturally beautiful young woman who was undoubtedly destined to end up hopelessly--though briefly--romantically entangled with the young man at the other end of the line.</p><p>“Okay,” said Sam. “We’re on it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cross To Bear (Gen, Case Fic)

“You’ve got to help me!” begged the soft, feminine voice on the phone that almost certainly belonged to a preternaturally beautiful young woman who was undoubtedly destined to end up hopelessly--though briefly--romantically entangled with the young man at the other end of the line.  
  
“Okay,” said Sam. “We’re on it.”  
  
“What was that all about?” asked Dean.  
  
Sam hung up the phone and shared a troubled glance with his brother.  
  
“Ghosts,” said Sam, grimly.  
  
“Shit,” said Dean, looking attractive. “You know I hate ghosts.”  
  
“Well, she sounded hot,” replied Sam defensively.  
  
“They’re all hot,” said Dean. “Literally every single woman we encounter is like a nine-point-five or higher. All of them.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Sam warily. He paused for a second. “I bet it’s the devil.”  
  
Dean nodded. That sounded like something that would happen to them. “Hey, where is this girl anyway?”  
  
“Oh, she said it was at the daycare center down on Spruce,” said Sam, his words dripping with foreshadowing so thick that several prominent rap artists tried to slap it on the ass. “You know, the one that was built on the ruins of the burnt down church that was in turn built on ancient Indian burial grounds right next to the abandoned mental hospital.”  
  
“Got it,” said Dean, still thinking about how hot this woman probably was.  
  
The brothers put on their ghost hunting coats--which were basically their regular coats--and walked out the front door. Their bears were tied to the porch railing. Dean’s bear, Maximus, was snoozing in the last sunbeam of dusk. Sam’s smaller black bear, Porky, was rummaging through the trash. Off in the distance, a Triceratops grazed.  
  
“Hey!” Sam called out, clapping his hands loudly. “No!” Porky looked ashamed.  
  
“Dude,” said Dean. “You really need to get that bear a tune-up.” He patted Maximus on the head, waking him.  
  
“Hey bear,” he said. “You ready to eat some ghosts?” Maximus purred. He was always ready to eat ghosts. Dean tried to ignore Sam chasing his stout little black bear across the driveway. Some people just didn’t take care of their bears. He mounted Maximus' broad, muscular back and waited for Sam to get his mess of a life in order.  
  
They trotted along on their bears for a while. Bear travel was not particularly fast. Sam had trouble reining in Porky as he veered off to the sides of the road to get at trash cans. Dean didn’t need to use reins--he had trained his bear well.  
  
“Do you ever wonder if there’s a better way?” asked Sam at one point, while their bears were stopped at a watering hole. Porky flopped around in the shallows like a seal. Maximus calmly and cooly sidled up to a Stegosaurus that was drinking from the pond and nudged it out of the way.  
  
“What could be better than this?” asked Dean. “I fucking love bears.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” said Sam. “But it just doesn’t seem like a very, you know, efficient way to travel.”  
  
Dean pondered this for a moment.  
  
“Bullshit,” he said, finally. “It would take way too long to walk places. Bear travel is fastest.”  
  
Two hours later they arrived at the daycare. It was dark now. The ruins of the abandoned mental hospital loomed menacingly in the background. The world briefly became darker as the shadow of passing Diplodocus blotted out the light.

A shiver went down Dean’s spine.  
  
“Man, I really hate ghosts,” said Dean.  
  
“Boo,” said a ghost.  
  
Dean screamed.  
  
“Shit,” said Sam, as more ghosts came out of the daycare. “Good thing I brought my ghost crossbow!” He started firing wildly.  
  
“Wait, what?” asked Dean, confused. “Is it, like, a crossbow that died and is a ghost, or is it a crossbow for ghosts or--ow!” He cried out as ghost bit him.  
  
He smacked the ghost in the face. It was ineffective. Luckily, Maximus, being a bear, was more than capable of affecting the world of the dead, and bit the ghost right back. Sam kept shooting ghosts with a crossbow. Dean didn’t really understand what was going on but it seemed to be working for him.  
  
“Dean!” called out Sam. “My crossbow isn’t killing the ghosts! I mean, I know they’re already dead, but it isn’t like, de-ghosting them. I think it’s just making them mad!”  
  
“De-corporealizing!” yelled Dean, maneuvering Maximus around to bite a ghost in the butt.  
  
“What?!” yelled Sam back. His bear had stopped to try and eat a flower.  
  
“That’s what you call it when you disrupt a ghost’s physical form!” said Dean, as he de-corporealized another ghost into his bear’s stomach. He was worried though. These ghosts were way harder to de-corporealize than usual.  
  
“Help!” came a voice from inside the daycare. “My poor choice in gender prevents me from saving myself!”  
  
Dean nodded to Sam. “Go save her! I’ll take care of these ghosts!”  
  
Sam jumped off his useless bear and ran into the daycare. The woman who had called Sam earlier was flailing ineffectually at a swarm of ghosts. Sam shot them with his crossbow.  
  
“Oh no, don’t do that!” cried the woman as she slapped at the ghosts accosting her. It did not work as she was not a bear. She kicked away a tiny Compsognathus that had been biting at her ankles. Sam shook his head. Household dinosaur infestations were 100 percent preventable with proper cleaning.  
  
“These are demons that turned into demon ghosts after a priest killed them!” she continued.  
  
Sam’s heart sank. “Well, shit,” he said, throwing down his dreamcatcher and Star of David.  
  
“Wait a second,” he continued, a glimmer of an idea forming. “Was it a Catholic priest or a Protestant?”  
  
“Catholic!” she said, slapping at ghost hands.  
  
“Damn,” said Sam again, throwing down his Lutheran cross.  
  
The ghosts continued to harass the woman, clearly waiting for a more dramatic moment to strike.  
  
“Wait . . .” said Sam again, another thought occurring to him. “When you say Catholic do you mean Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox?”  
  
“I don’t know, Regular Catholic!” she yelled as the ghosts bit into her skin, sucking the life from her.  
  
“That’s quite frankly offensive,” said Sam. “There are two-hundred and thirteen million adherents to the Eastern Orthodox church, and while they are often under-represented in media-” He was cut off by her agonized screams.  
  
“Roman Catholic! Roman fucking Catholic!” she screamed. A ghost bit off her hand.  
  
“Shit,” said Sam again, dropping the dessicated finger of Saint Anna. “So much for that.”  
  
The attractive young woman--if Sam had to be honest, she was barely a nine-point-two--was now curled into a fetal position as demon ghosts gnawed at her flesh.  
  
Sam was struck by inspiration. “Hang on a second!” he cried. “Dominican, Franciscan, or Jesuit?”  
  
The woman only whimpered. There was a lot of blood. The Compsognathus was back and had brought several friends. Sam idly kicked them away as they tried to lick at the pool of blood expanding around her.  
  
“Sam!” Dean exclaimed, as he burst through the wall riding on Maximus. “These are _demon_ ghosts!”  
  
“Yeah, she told me,” said Sam, gesturing at the woman being eaten alive by the spectral remains of the minions of hell.  
  
“Oh,” said Dean. “I only figured it out when Maximus started pooping brimstone.”  
  
“I don’t think we can kill them-” began Sam  
  
“De-corporealize,” interrupted Dean.  
  
Sam sighed. “Right, sure. Anyway, look--some priest killed them with priest magic and now they’re ghosts.”  
  
“That's offensive,” said Castiel the angel as he appeared from the back door. “You can’t just say ‘priest magic.’ Do you have any idea how hard we try to differentiate ‘miracles’ from ‘magic’?”  
  
They ignored him.  
  
“Sam,” said Dean. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

Sam hopped on Maximus’ back and they rode out through the hole in the wall.  
  
Castiel looked down at the body of the woman Sam had failed to save.

“Damn, girl, we could have had some fun when you were alive,” he said regretfully. “I wish angels had dicks.” Then he disappeared back to heaven.  
  
Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were charging on Maximus through the ruins of the nearby mental hospital. He and Dean had tied Porky's dismembered leg to a rope and were dragging it behind them as part of Dean's plan. Porky sadly hadn't survived the demon ghost onslaught and had perished during battle. The poor bear hadn’t stood a chance. Sam felt kind of guilty about that but not really because he didn’t care about bears.  
  
“Are you sure this is going to work?” yelled Sam to Dean.  
  
“Look,” said Dean, taking on a lecturing tone. “You can’t even take care of a bear. Middle school children get their bear licenses. I don’t think you're really in a position to question me.”  
  
Sam really couldn’t argue. He _had_ neglected his bear. He just didn’t care. He wasn’t a bear person.  
  
They didn’t have much time to debate, however, because the plan worked. Dean nudged Maximus to run faster as he heard an earth-shaking roar behind him.  
  
“We got a live one!” Dean yelled.  
  
Sam clung on to the bear. It was all he could do to stay on Maximus as a Tyrannosaurus Rex chased after the haunch of raw bear meat that had been Porky’s hindquarters. Dean urged Maximus on harder, racing back to the daycare. When they arrived, the ghosts were waiting for them.  
  
Dean ignored the ghosts and raced his bear right through them. Sam jumped off the bear and dove inside. He leaned out the doorway and readied his crossbow.

Dean rode by at a gallop. When the massive T-Rex lumbered by in pursuit, Sam took careful aim and plugged it right in the eye.  
  
“Gotcha,” he murmured as the colossal carnivore roared in pain and fell to the ground. The ghosts looked confused. Ghosts aren’t very smart.  
  
Dean halted Maximus and turned around. The T-Rex twitched and shuddered. The ghosts watched it briefly with curiosity, then turned their attention to Dean. Maximus licked his lips in anticipation of eating more ghosts.  
  
Suddenly, the ghosts were thrown into disarray. The dead T-Rex, its mission in life to eat things gone unfulfilled, had become a ghost. The dinosaur ghost roared silently and lunged at the nearest demon ghost, devouring it whole.  
  
 _Oh shit_ , thought the next nearest ghost as it pondered the existence of the after-afterlife and wished it had been a better ghost.  
  
Dean dismounted and walked over to Sam. The ghosts were no longer a threat to them, though Maximus used this moment to his advantage to get in a snack or two. The air was filled with silent screams as the ghost dinosaur fought ghost demons.  
  
“Pretty sweet, Dean,” said Sam.  
  
Truer words had never been spoken. Dean looked at the bloodless corpse of the woman, the body now a meal for the group of Compsognathus. Weird. He and Sam usually made it in time to save the day.

 _Oh well_ , Dean thought. The woman was like a nine-point-two at best. He felt confident he’d get another shot at saving an attractive woman in a week or so.  
  
Suddenly, the daycare's eastern wall exploded inward and burst into flames. Sam and Dean were caught off guard and stumbled backward. A strange steel contraption, in some respects not unlike the bear-drawn carriages of the wealthy elite but without the bears, had appeared without warning.  
  
“What the hell . . .?" asked Sam.  
  
Dean was similarly perplexed. In order to fracture the daycare’s stone walls with such force the contraption had to have been moving at least eighty-eight miles-per-hour--but not even the swiftest racing bears could achieve such speed!  
  
The mysterious object’s side opened, the solid paneling splitting along a seam into a vertical hatch and rising into the air with a hiss. A man emerged, shaking and frantic. His hair was white and stood up as if charged by static electricity--similar to the look one might achieve by brushing a bear too vigorously on a carpet--and raised his thick  goggles from his eyes to his forehead.  
  
His eyes darted from the mighty bear Maximus fighting hell ghosts claw and fang to the spectral Tyrannosaurus asserting its dominance over the deceased demon wraiths.  
  
“Great Scott,” he said breathlessly. “What have we done to the timeline?"


End file.
